


After Houlihan's

by therisingmoon



Category: Heroes - Fandom
Genre: Drinking, Food, Gen, Hangover, Humor, Post-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-05-09
Updated: 2012-05-09
Packaged: 2017-11-05 01:34:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 865
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/400999
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/therisingmoon/pseuds/therisingmoon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Peter, Hesam, and their fellow paramedics recuperate after a successful night out.</p>
            </blockquote>





	After Houlihan's

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by [Texts From Primatech](http://textsfromprimatech.tumblr.com/post/22354425298).  
> Some references to "Orientation/Jump, Push, Fall" and "Eris Quod Sum".
> 
> unbeta'ed, any errors are mine.
> 
> Disclaimer: for fun, not for profit. Heroes belongs to Tim Kring.

When he woke up to the sunlight drifting into his bedroom, Peter wished he had regeneration back because then he would not be having this massive hangover right now. He sunk down further into his bed, placed his hands over his face, and groaned. Claire was so lucky that she would never have to experience a hangover as terrible as this one.

It had been a good idea at the time; get out of his workaholic routine for a bit, and go out for drinks at Houlihan’s with Hesam and the others. Unfortunately, it was also a long time since Peter had gone out drinking and he had forgotten his limits. Although last night could be considered a success for his social life, he had woken up in the feeling like that time Sylar threw him out a window, except this time, it was without telekinesis and the feeling was much worse. Peter was going to wring Hesam’s neck for encouraging him to take that last shot and beer. He popped two aspirin into his mouth, took a drink of water, and glanced at his phone when it started buzzing. There was a text from Hesam.

_McD’s?_

_You’re paying._ Peter texted back. He made himself look as decent as possible, given his head-splitting hangover, and trudged down to the McDonald's that he and the rest of the paramedics frequented. When he entered the restaurant, he spotted Hesam, Jackson, and several other guys from last night sitting together at the table. They were all looking equally demolished or worse. Peter slunk down into an empty chair and gave all of them his best hungover glare.

“I hate boilermakers.” Peter muttered. There were murmurs of agreement from the table.

“The shots were just as brutal,” Hesam said as he rubbed his face. “Shit, how much did we drink last night?”

“I don’t even want to look at my credit card statement,” Nick Jackson added as he slid a ten-dollar bill over to Hesam. “I need some Big Macs and you’re paying.” Peter and the rest of the table slid their money over to Hesam with their orders. He sighed, put on his sunglasses, and went over to the counter to order.

“Man, Pete,” Charlie Yao said as he looked over to Peter, who had then put his arms on the table and then rested his head on them. “You’re busted. How many did you put away last night?”

“You should talk,” Peter flicked him off and then lifted his head to rub his temples. “You were covered in shot glasses. I lost count and I think I blacked out after that sixth one. I don’t even remember how I got home. I feel like I was thrown out of a window.”

“At least you woke up at home,” Jackson piped in. “I woke up in Penn Station.” Sympathetic murmurs arose from the group and someone patted Jackson on the back as Hesam came back to the table with a tray stacked full of food. The smell of the food, however, was too much for Lopez and he dashed off to the bathroom to throw up. Hesam shook his head as the guy slumped back to the table and everyone divvied up their food. He passed Peter’s McNuggets to him and the moment he was handed the box, Peter’s expression lit up.

“There’s an extra one in here.” Peter said as brightly as he could. “That totally makes this hangover worth it.” He opened the box, and sure enough, there were not one, but two extra McNuggets in the box. “Thank God for coffee and extra barbecue sauce.”

“Nice.” Hesam said through a mouthful of fries. “They gave me extra fries.”

“Extra fries and extra nuggets make last night totally worth it.” Yao added as he took a bite of his Big Mac. The whole table murmured in agreement. “We should totally do this again sometime. You all in?”

“Yes” was the unanimous chorus of answers.

**Three weeks later…**

Hesam slid into the Waffle House booth where Peter and the rest of the paramedics group were sitting. They were all nursing steaming hot mugs of coffee and had on their sunglasses to cover the glare from the hanging lamps.

“Fucking tequila,” Hesam muttered after the waitress poured him a cup of coffee. “I need waffles.”

“Charlie’s got waffles for all of us,” Peter groggily replied. “Extra butter and syrup.”

“Nice,” Hesam said as he slumped back into the booth and gave Yao two thumbs up for the waffles. “Man, Cuervo did a number on me.”

“Dude, Cuervo did a number on all of us,” Norman Lopez replied. “I swear, my eyeballs were swimming and my head was on fire when I woke up today.” Murmurs of sympathy were all around the table. When their waffles were brought to their table, they all fist-bumped each other and began eating in hungover silence. 

“Hey Peter,” Hesam said after a few minutes of eating. “Remember that time in McDonald’s that you merely felt the weight of the McNuggets box and knew there was an extra one?”

The group chuckled as Peter replied, “Like it was yesterday. Thank God for days off.”


End file.
